


I Get Along Without You Very Well

by defenestratedplayboi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defenestratedplayboi/pseuds/defenestratedplayboi
Summary: Tony dictates a series of blurred memories and nightmares to FRIDAY that popped up after Civil War. Stream of consciousness him being sort of forced to keep a journal due to nightmares he's been having. Title based on I Get Along Without You Very Well by Chet Baker
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Kudos: 4





	I Get Along Without You Very Well

It's been a few months and I still get nightmares. I mean Bruce made me go to therapy and they said it was what, PTSD last time? Isn't what they called "shell shock" or whatever? Hmph more like Shellhead shock am I right? 

Anyway, FRIDAY suggested I start keeping a log of all the times it happens. And what happens. So let the record show this is day one. Of me actually starting a voice journal or whatever. To get it off my chest and hopefully it'll help. And file this under that folder…FRIDAY you know the one. If I die, I don't want anyone left to ever find out about this. 

Right ok so  
Day 1: 6:55pm  
FRIDAY says I need to keep a list of my feelings. What even are those anymore? I'm just monologuing to nothing as I try and recalibrate the fucking blaster he tore to shreds. That's what gets me. How could he just tear me apart like fucking tissue paper? What I saw in his eyes that day was pure, unfiltered rage. Like he wanted to kill me. Did he? Look, I'm not gonna pretend I know what he was going through. If anyone laid a hand on Rhodey like that. Come to think of it, the motherfucker who shot him out of the sky. Only reason I didn't kill him is because…Steve cared about him. Same as…Barnes. I…fuck…FRIDAY, pause it. 

Day 1: 8:43pm  
Sorry I got sidetracked. Ok. So it happened again. I had a nightmare. I slept for a few hours last night and. Steve was there. We were back at Clint's barn. We were. Shooting the shit. Just. Two dudes. Ripping logs apart with brute strength alone. Before it got to that point, we were just talking. I literally asked him what he wanted for breakfast since we were spending our honeymoon in such a quaint bed and breakfast. That's what happened, it's like I was reliving that memory. It all felt…so real. I could…smell the wood and…his sweat. I saw how he half smiled at me

"Tony, we are not inconveniencing Mrs. Barton with that. We'll leave in the morning and get you fast food." 

"I miss your cooking" I split another log. "Ever since you all moved into the tower, you cook for the team at least once a week and…you know for a guy that disappeared when Jello salads were still a thing, you make some mean poached eggs."

Steve chuckled and I swear I could see him blush. The memory just…engraved like those old timey photo plates. Permanently etched into my brain. "I thankfully never had Jello salad but those army MREs were no joke. " He cut another log and looked at me. "You knew you were in deep shit if the only thing you were looking forward to was M&Ms airdopped and crushed. They didn't melt but they broke into sprinkles." 

I laughed and sat down for a second. "I'm looking forward to rooming with you tonight, what does that say?" Steve immediately went back to the firewood.

"Don't get any ideas. The walls are thin." He huffed and turned away from me. 

"No shit I-" I went and grabbed more wood from the pile. "Look I was just saying, I wanna see if you snore or some other embarrassing shit that I can sell to the tabloids. Does Cap sleep commando? Does he talk in his sleep? I take all the blankets, literally all of them. Then I toss them on the floor when I get too hot. So no one gets the blankets, cuz I said so." Steve laughed and scooted just a bit closer to me. I could smell him. He smelled like sweat and pine. Was it the farm? Can you even smell in a dream? Was it just the memory replaying like on those old projectors? 

"If we're sharing insecurities. I hate the cold." He shrugged and went back to the firewood. "You know why. It just doesn't sit right with me. So if you take all the blankets, I'll take em back. I think we both know who's stronger" He stood over me, as if to remind me that he could split me like one of those logs. I don't remember when the conversation turned into why the fuck I built Ultron…but that's when the memory turned into a nightmare. The moment he stood over me, I found myself in the suit. Except nothing was working. I tried to run but Steve pinned me down. I tried to shoot but my blasters were broken. The dream just cut to him on top of me, beating me senseless with the shield. 

"Steve-" I tried to push him off but he was so much stronger, so much bigger. 

"You. Killed. Bucky. You. Took him. From me. You." He kept hitting me. And sure enough, there was Barnes, in a corner. Or what was left of him. His arm…I…did I tear it off? I couldn't breathe. The chestplate was caving in…the sensors beeping, Steve wouldn't let up and-

And then I woke up. And came down to the lab. To work on these goddamn blasters. Cuz this is literally the first time I've looked at repairing the suit since. Siberia. Whatever. I logged it, you happy now? Call me Kirk, sign off the Captain's log I guess. Fuck. 

Day 4: 2:33am

Chet Baker. That's how Steve and I first started talking about non-work related shit. I fucking loved the guy, voice like butter. Too bad he debuted when Steve was under. Yeah in '53 I think…anyway, Maria loved him and I kept some of the records. He did some jazz standards and I was talking to Steve about those. We were hanging out in the living room of my penthouse. Steve liked to go up there sometimes. This was pre Ultron…post black hole. My brain likes to fuck with what memories it replays on the projector. 

"Did you ever meet anyone I should know about?" We ordered pizza that night and I took a slice. Buffalo chicken, which he thought was disgusting but he got his own fresh mozzarella and arugula one. 

"I was in Harlem and met Ella once." He shrugged and grabbed a sparkling water from the fridge. "I'm kinda sad I wasn't around to hear this Baker guy sing though…he really could sing. And a trumpet player that doesn't sound so…brassy and harsh? Damn…I missed out." He sat down on the couch next to me and sighed. "Do you actually like jazz or are you trying to relate to me?"

I turned around so he couldn't see me be so flustered. "I- look I'm not all AC/DC and Sabbath! I'm a man of culture and. Yeah I like jazz but I'm picky about it. " I shoved the entire piece of pizza in my mouth and he laughed, scooting closer. 

"Mhm. This one is a classic you know. A lot of singers recorded classics with their own spin on it. This one was sung by Bing Crosby in a movie I watched way back when" He hummed the melody and looked at me. 

"Funny each time I fall in love…it's always you…" I sang, unconsciously I guess. It's just a good song, a fucking classic. Steve heard me and laughed. "What?"

"I didn't know you could sing." He stood up and grabbed my hand. "Here. I'll show you how we danced back before I went under. Nothing like whatever the kids are doing these days." He led my hand to his shoulder and put his hand on my waist. "I'll uh lead you follow. Just. Listen to the trumpet. " We swayed around for a bit until I put my head on his shoulder. He stopped abruptly and looked at me "Tony-I.."

"Fuck. Sorry." I let him go and sat back down. "I uh don't really dance. " I grabbed another piece of pizza and let the record play on. 

"Yeah no…it's fine I'm out of practice too." He sat next to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "No hard feelings. It's kinda natural to do that." He relaxed into the couch and played on his phone. "If you can sing and you feel comfortable doing so, I would love to hear you." I blushed and put on another record. 

"Fine. But know this is the two beers talking. And put that phone away…if Clint finds out, I'll never hear the end of it." I cleared my throat and went to the bar to mix another drink. 

"I get along without you  
Very well." I started, looking down at the drink.  
"Of course I do.  
Except when soft rains fall  
And drip from leaves that I recall  
The thrill of being sheltered in your arms…"

No. No fuck. See that's where my brain fucks with the memory. That's when it goes downhill. That's when it turns into a nightmare. We listened to something else, I swear or it got awkward after we danced and he put on a movie. But I did not sing him that song. That fucking song. Here's where it went downhill. I heard it playing, I was at the bar singing it when the room crumbled into pieces. The tower fell. It was all rubble in my penthouse but I was in a Frank Sinatra like suit. I held my scotch in my left hand and an old timey microphone in the other. Everything was red, like it was on fire then it faded to dark as I approached Steve who was…under the rubble. He…I knew he was dead. He wasn't breathing, there was no pulse, the rubble of the tower was all over him, he was bleeding from his ears and his nose and. 

"I get along without you  
Very well" His corpse sang at me. He grabbed me by the throat.  
"Of. Course. I. Do"

Then I woke up. Halfway to the lab, clutching the flip phone. And now I'm here. Fuck FRIDAY there I documented it again. What is this? Why does my brain keep fucking with my memories? It's all I have left of him. I don't need those gone too. 

Day 8: 3:46am

FRIDAY, we're gonna need to invest in something to keep my memories intact. I might have to go to Wanda or something I don't know if she trusts me enough to help me out like that. Or maybe it's her. Maybe she's doing this to fuck with me for revenge. If she is, she's making me consider jumping off the helipad. I've been avoiding dreaming. I guess if I sleep less than 6 hours I avoid dreaming. So I've been keeping it short, sweet and to the point. 3 hours here, pass out for 2 there. Cold brew and caffeine pills to avoid sleep mostly. It happened again. That's why I'm here, documenting it. And now it's beyond nightmares. It feels like a premonition. Wherever he's run off to, I don't know if he's safe. Nat won't tell me. Her and I text from time to time but she won't tell me a location. I asked if she would tell me if anything ever happened to him and she just texted a smiley face. 

This one wasn't a memory with him. Or at least it didn't start out that way. I was in the black hole. I was suffocating. All over again. Then I heard it. That fucking song. 

"I get along without you…"

I heard it from the other side of the portal. Right as he gave the order to close it. When I fell, I landed in Siberia and he had his foot on my chest, suffocating me, crushing the suit. The song was playing but it was distorted as fuck and Bucky was trying to pull Steve back. "Steve, that’s enough." I heard Bucky. Steve huffed and threw the shield at me, knocking me out in the dream. 

Then it turned into a memory. When I fell out of the sky the umpteenth time. When he showed up in the fucking med bay with a stupid ass Build a Bear and some ice cream. "Nat said you were lactose intolerant so I got sherbet." He looked flustered as fuck and worried sick. 

"When was the last time you slept?" I asked, looking around and seeing a blanket and his phone charging on a couch nearby.

"It…last night. I'm fine you just took a beating and. You know if you keep landing on your side you're not gonna heal up right. Ribs are a bitch to heal." He handed me the Build a Bear, an Iron Man one. "I wanted to get you something special and Nat told me that there's a place where you can build bears now. I had to wish on the heart, I'm pretty sure it's a business model made for 12 yr olds but…Nat made me-"

I took the bear and burst out laughing. "Please tell me that Nat got it on video!" He blushed and handed me the sherbet. 

"Shut up. Here. Just. Please heal. You scare me sometimes. Your suit shut off completely and…JARVIS was offline. He said he couldn’t detect…"

"Steve…I'm fine." I took a bite of the sherbet and smiled. "It looks like I broke my left side again. It's whatever. Did we win though?" He sat down on the edge of my bed and shrugged. 

"Yeah. Thor and Bruce are on clean up and Nat managing civilian triage with Clint." He sighed and went back to the couch. "I'm sorry. I just can't bear to lose another so-"

"We're not soldiers." I shook my head. "We're friends. We're a team. Come back." I tried my best to scoot over and leave room for him on the bed. He slowly sat next to me again. "Just pat my head and tell me I'm cute, that's how I heal up the fastest" 

Then I woke up. To the phone in my hand. I was wondering if I was too forward when all that shit happened but I remembered he spent the night taking care of me and we both had a good time despite the broken limbs. I got a sudden sense of fear and dread in the pit of my stomach. Was he laying there broken in a hospital bed? Or worse…was this him telling me goodbye? 

So I caved. FRIDAY, write this down. 

I texted him. And right when I fucking texted him, I don't know if it was my imagination but I heard the song

"except perhaps in spring…" No fuck I swear I heard it. Look, I'm a man of science that's why I'm keeping a log of all this. But I heard the fucking song. I heard it. I texted him, here's the text for the record:

"Hey. You ok? Just had a bad feeling."

And nothing. Nothing yet. Fucka;jif k[j

Day 8: 9:37am

I passed out on the couch, sorry. 

Anyway, I had another one. 

The song was playing and. We were on a mountain. Red Skull was there. We had to get some sort of something to stop a villain . And Red Skull said that one of us had to let go of the one we loved most. Steve nodded and looked around. "He's not here." That's all he said before his eyes got really wide and he looked at me. "Oh. No I. I can't. I won't. One of us has to die?" Red Skull just nodded and led us to the edge of the cliff. One of us had to die, the other had to let go, for us to get something that was at the bottom. Steve nodded and looked at me. He smiled. "I really mean that much to ya huh?" He leaned in and kissed me. "You'll get along without me just fine. Just…stay away from people that laugh like me or whatever." He ventured closer to the edge of the cliff and looked down. "If…you're sure this will save…everyone then." He threw his shield at me, knocking me back from stopping him as he jumped. And I heard him crash. I heard his bones break and his skull shatter. And I couldn't move the entire time. I was paralyzed. It should've been me that jumped. Mockingly the song just played over and over in the background and I was in a pool of red. 

"I get along without you…very…well"

And now I'm here. He texted back.

"I'm fine." 

Fuck FRIDAY. I need to schedule time to see him. I have this feeling eating away at me that one of us is gonna die without us getting to work things out. I just want to apologize. If that happens, give him access to this log. What he did to me really fucked me up but I'm not without fault. I broke out friendship, our trust. I thought we could be something else but he always had Bucky and I was never meant to be more than just his friend. I know he cares about me. At least that's what my brain is telling me. Unless I'm delusional and all those memories are fake. Please just Steve, if you ever get access to this, know that I'm sorry and I never got to tell you. I loved you and I never got to say it. It wasn't just romantic love. I loved you in so many ways. I cared about you. 

I never got along well without you.

**Author's Note:**

> Put some blueberry vodka in a baja blast and typed this with a broken wrist  
> Anyway please listen to that song if you get a chance.  
> It's such a good song


End file.
